Racer X: 100 Best First Lines (4-6)
Wherein Anonymous Racer X takes the 100 Best First Lines from Novels and turns each one into the opening of a really lame tri-blog post by an infuriatingly self-obsessed triathlete.
Today's installment: Lines 4-6.
Previous installments.
4. Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendía was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice.
"Papa, when global warming takes effect and this icecap melts, this lake would be muy bueno for an Oly distance triathlon swim," he remembered saying. Now, as the executioners took aim, the Colonel couldn't help but wonder if the smallish lake actually had been better-suited for a sprint.
—Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude (1967; trans. Gregory Rabassa)
5. Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins.
Please apply this Body Glide liberally to prevent chafing of your inner thighs during your long run, my darling.
—Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita (1955)
6. Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.
Yet ours surely would be a happier family if Uncle Sasha simply would admit he is lying about his marathon PR.
—Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina
(1877; trans. Constance Garnett)
Today's installment: Lines 4-6.
Previous installments.
4. Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendía was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice.
"Papa, when global warming takes effect and this icecap melts, this lake would be muy bueno for an Oly distance triathlon swim," he remembered saying. Now, as the executioners took aim, the Colonel couldn't help but wonder if the smallish lake actually had been better-suited for a sprint.
—Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude (1967; trans. Gregory Rabassa)
5. Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins.
Please apply this Body Glide liberally to prevent chafing of your inner thighs during your long run, my darling.
—Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita (1955)
6. Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.
Yet ours surely would be a happier family if Uncle Sasha simply would admit he is lying about his marathon PR.
—Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina
(1877; trans. Constance Garnett)


<< Home